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by Saber Wing
Summary: Mello always thought it would hurt. Dying, that is.


_**Author's Note: **_My first Death Note fic, and a drabble at that :). I wrote this for my friend, Sairento-shi, upon her request. I normally don't take requests, but for a friend, I would ^_^. And have. Obviously. I've always thought Mello was interesting anyway. Hope you all enjoy it. If I remember right, they never show Mello's death (in the anime, anyway). So, I'm detailing his thoughts in his final moments. Oh well =p. I don't own Death Note, or any of the characters.

**Home**

**By: Angel Wings-008**

He wished he had a chocolate bar.

It was stupid, really. Mello knew that in these moments, he could have asked for any number of things. To be the very best; no, better than the best. To show the world what he could do and give his adversaries absolutely _no_ mercy. To hold Kira's throat tightly within both hands, snap his neck in an instant of cold-blooded pleasure (even if that was a little too reminiscent of the man he'd be killing. At least he would have the balls to do it with his own two hands). To see _his _face again, look up into those big black eyes and think, "I wanna be just like him."

That was what people did when they kicked it, didn't they? I wish I'd done this, I wish I could have that...why didn't I do this, this, or that? Pointless. Mello was beyond idiotic, whimsical thoughts such as 'what if?' or 'how come?' He'd learned a long time ago that wishing, hoping, and regretting was never enough. That wasn't going to change, even as his heart stuttered and almost skipped to a stop beneath his chest.

Suddenly, he couldn't feel his hands anymore...couldn't see the street in front of him, couldn't move his legs, and there was nothing he could do to tell his limbs otherwise. The car swerved off the road as he lost control, crashing into some object or another. What it was didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. It didn't matter that his head had been smashed into the steering wheel, or that blood was flowing in a steady stream down his face. It didn't matter that his lungs were screaming, or that his heart strained to keep him alive; a futile effort. He would have told them not to bother if he could. It didn't matter that despite their opposition, Nate might be sad, and that somewhere deep within his heart, that just _might _matter to him. It didn't even matter that he would never have another god damn chocolate bar. Life...it was coming to an end. Mello wasn't sure if he cared about that or not.

He wasn't sure who had killed him or how, but he knew what was happening. Kira had his full name now. No...Light Yagami had his full name. His death had been inevitable. Bastard. What a pathetic way to die (okay, so maybe he _did _care). At least he hadn't gone down without a fight. Near should have all the proof he needed to put the asshole away, although Mello still wished he could have killed the guy himself for what he'd done to Lawliet.

Time was running shorter and shorter with every second that ticked by; he was starting to feel light-headed. Weaker, weaker...weaker...he could hardly think at all now. _That _sucked. When all else had failed him in his life, he'd always had his mind and his own inner thoughts to turn to. Well, maybe where he was going, he wouldn't need them anymore. He wondered, not for the first time, if there was actually somewhere you went for the afterlife, or if you were just dead. Either way, he was about to find out. Or not, if his consciousness simply just faded into nothingness. If that were the case, Mello would never realize anything ever again. Hmm. That was kind of depressing.

Mello always thought it would hurt. Dying, that is. Why shouldn't it? Just about every other moment up to this point had been filled with agony of some sort or another. And at first he had been in pain, but now? He was numb. _Deliciously _numb. Almost...content. Yeah, that was it. Content. He didn't have to fight anymore. His work was done, and he knew in all of his heart and soul that he would be avenged (funny. Did that mean he had a soul after all?).

His brother in arms would see them all redeemed; every single person who had died because of that cursed notebook. They would surpass L, after all. They already had. Together, although one of them wouldn't be alive to see it. Mello was sure of this, even as he coughed up gobs of blood that dripped like a leaking faucet down his chin.

A smile curved his lips as he uttered his last breath, vision that was already blurred, failing, fading...fading completely to black. Black...he'd always liked the color. People found it frightening, but as Mello sank into the deep, dark abyss, the only thing that he could grasp...was happiness. Finally, he was going home.

For the first time, he felt as if he truly had one to go to.


End file.
